A Heart of Glass
by lesbianpapyrus
Summary: A prince and a servant boy learn that love is the most powerful force in the world—strong enough to withstand heartbreak, abuse, and even death itself. Papyton human fairy tale AU, based on Disney's Cinderella (1950), Cinderella (2015), and Cinderella III: A Twist in Time.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms.

One kingdom was called Ostaria, surrounded by the sea and cliffs on one side and forest on the other. It was most well known for its widespread practice of magic—and its stinginess with it. For it would share its secrets with no other land.

The other kingdom was called Fatrusia, and it was surrounded by the same forest as Ostaria on one side and vast, flat meadows, filled with rich soil, on the other. Because of these meadows, Fatrusia was known for its agriculture. It was also known for combat, as it trained its warriors for battle fiercely, should any other kingdom ever attack.

Fatrusia, unfortunately, was also ridden with disease, and looked upon Ostaria with jealous eyes. For Ostaria had solved that problem long ago using magic, but refused to help its neighbor. The people were afraid that if their secrets were revealed, other kingdoms should use magic to conquer others still.

But Ostaria had to defend itself anyway, for Fatrusia soon declared war over its lack of generosity. The bloody battles went on for a few years—and then, for the safety of everyone and to keep their secrets, the royal house prohibited the use of magic in battle, then in daily household use except to stop illness. Eventually magic was completely forbidden to the common people, and even most of the royal house did not know it, except for the royal physician for use in healing. Within a few generations, even the very knowledge of how to use magic died out.

After nearly thirty years of blood and death, the kingdoms called for a cease-fire, unwilling to put any more lives on the line. It was an uneasy peace, filled with silence between the lands and constant vigilance. The people returned to their farms and grew their crops and tended their animals and shops, all wondering when everything would become hell again.

During this cease-fire, a man known as Asgore Dreemurr and his wife Toriel became the King and Queen of Ostaria. Their son, Asriel, was their pride and joy, for he was a gentle young boy, full of kindness and promise as a future ruler.

Unbeknownst to his parents, Asriel found the castle atmosphere oppressive at times, and often snuck out to explore the nearby forest. One day, as he walked along the border of Ostaria and Fatrusia, he found another child, who wore the crest of Fatrusia. After a few moments of apprehension, the children began to talk and agreed to meet again. Over the course of a few meetings, they became fast friends, and began to develop a plan to end the war between their kingdoms.

Tragedy struck when the Fatrusian child brought Asriel to their kingdom to show that they could be friends. The people believed the Fatrusian child to be a traitor and Asriel to be a spy, and gravely wounded them both in an ensuing fight. Asriel dragged himself and the child back to Ostaria, but the child died before he crossed the border, and he himself only made it to the castle before he dropped dead at the feet of the guards.

Asriel's parents were stricken with grief as they buried their son and the unknown child. Asgore recognized the crest of Fatrusia on the child's clothing, and his anger flared. He wanted to renew the war on Fatrusia, but Toriel insisted it was a rash action and would not allow it.

Asgore went out into the forest to clear his head.

Meanwhile, in Fatrusia, disease was still running rampant, and had afflicted a family with a tiny new baby. Not wanting to see his child die, the father took the baby and snuck into the Ostarian part of the forest, where he found an old hunting shack. He wrapped the baby in a blanket, kissed its forehead, and left it in the shack, waiting nearby under the cover of the trees.

Asgore passed by that section of the forest and heard a pitiful cry. Coming across the hunting shack, he looked inside and saw the infant. Filled with compassion, he picked up the wailing child and looked over it—a tiny little boy with dark skin and a head full of black hair, likely only a few days old.

He was prepared to bring it back to the castle with him when he saw what was knitted in the corner of the blanket—the crest of Fatrusia.

His compassion twisted into anger—revenge. This child was one of the enemy.

Asgore put the child back onto the floor and fell to his knees, bringing out the short sword he always carried on him. He would not let the enemy live within his borders.

He raised the sword above his head to kill the infant.

But the child looked at him with the deepest brown eyes he had ever seen in a baby, and cried its little heart out.

And Asgore could not kill it.

His hands dropped to his sides, and he sheathed the sword, ashamed of what he had almost done. He picked up the baby once more and decided that he would, from that day forward, raise him as his son.

As Asgore departed from the shack, the baby's father smiled, believing his child was in good hands. He left to go back to his home, the place from which he and his wife would never again depart.

When Asgore returned to the castle and showed the child to Toriel, she was furious. Suppose it was some kind of trick? Or what if some family was missing their baby? When Asgore refused to return the child to its kingdom, she then accused him of wanting to replace their own son. Asgore went red, and could no longer explain himself. And Toriel knew.

In anger, she left him. But she did not want to leave her only son—her only _real_ son.

She wanted to take him with her, but she could never carry his body, or even his ashes with her, or she felt she would die of grief.

No, there was only one thing she believed she could do, one way to take him with her.

She went to the Royal Physician and asked for their help in resurrecting Asriel.

This, of course, was far beyond the scope of the Doctor's abilities. They were only a physician, and they only knew enough magic to heal the sick and injured. But they promised to do what they could.

The Doctor concocted a potion they believed would raise Asriel from the dead. In the dead of night, the day before Toriel planned to leave, they went to Asriel's grave and poured the potion over it.

It did not work, and Toriel, heartbroken, chose to go on and leave without him. She was not to be seen again for many, many years.

Nobody was there to see a single, beautiful golden flower grow overnight above Asriel's grave.

After Toriel left, Asgore pulled himself together and did what he desired. He renewed the call to war against Fatrusia and headed many more battles against them. When he was not fighting, he raised his new son, whom he had decided to call Mettaton.

He was determined that Mettaton should be the most powerful, wise, and determined king that Ostaria had ever known—one who would finally end this decades-long war against Fatrusia. It would be the perfect revenge, he thought—having a Fatrusian bring Fatrusia to its knees.

And indeed, Mettaton was partially responsible for ending the war against Fatrusia. But it would not be in the way that Asgore wanted. It would not be in the way of war and death.

It would be in the way of love and peace.

And he would not do it alone.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

In a stately chateau across the land from the castle, there lived a man and his wife.

W.D. Gaster's family had owned the chateau and the surrounding farmland for generations. A veteran of the great war, he now worked as a merchant, selling wares from the village as well as sending his own crops and livestock to market. He was quite successful at running a business and had a friendly disposition that made him popular with customers. Many of them would make comments about how much Gaster seemed to love his occupation.

But Gaster's true love was his family.

His wife Verdana was a beauty to behold, dark-skinned with hair the color of a raven's feathers and sparkling, deep brown eyes that could melt one's soul. She had the personality to match—always lending a helping hand, feeding the hungry, treating all whom she met with dignity and grace. She believed that kindness had the power to change everyone's lives for the better, and that belief shone in every action she took.

It was no surprise to anyone that she would turn out to be such a wonderful mother. Her first child with Gaster, whom they called Sans, was a chubby and good-natured little boy who loved to make others laugh. Verdana made sure to teach him only the best of jests and japes, and Sans grew up to become a young boy who was quite good at bringing a smile to the faces of his peers.

Sadly, Sans was a rather sickly child, and his constant illnesses required him to stay in the house nearly all of the time. Gaster had to hire a tutor from the nearest village to teach his son how to read and write and do basic mathematics, as Sans could not attend school. Sans, from a young age, had always been telling Verdana how much he wanted to be like his papa, but Gaster feared the long trips he had to make as a merchant would be too much for him.

When Sans was twelve years of age, his mother became with child again, and she gave birth to another son, whom they called Papyrus. Sans was quite unsure about this new little being at first; it only seemed to cry and sleep, and occasionally smelled indescribably. But as the infant grew and began to smile and play, he and his older brother became fast friends, nearly inseparable. They might be seen building forts made of pillows and blankets in the parlor, or baking cakes and pies in the kitchen, or running about in the gardens. More often than not, Verdana would shirk her wifely duties in order to play with them, and occasionally even Gaster could be seen chasing them all about outside of the house.

Whenever his brother was too sick to get out of bed, Verdana would read to him, and after she had left for the night, Papyrus would sneak in and would attempt to read to him too, though his version of reading was simply looking at the pictures in the books and making up a story based on what he saw.

Papyrus adored his mother with all his heart. If Verdana told Papyrus to do something, he did it. If she were sewing up a hole in Gaster's sock, Papyrus would pretend to sew something as well. Every move Verdana made, every household task she performed, Papyrus would copy. He even asked her to make him dresses and skirts so he could dress like her, a request to which Verdana happily obliged.

And so the happy family thrived.

But it was not long before tragedy struck with little warning.

It was the brightest of summer days when Verdana first fell ill. She had been working with the cooks when she began to feel a chill despite the oppressive heat of the kitchen. Believing that a good dose of sunshine would make the strange feeling go away, she went out to the garden to join her sons in a game of running and chasing. It was only a few minutes later that she had to sit down out of exhaustion, and it was then that she began to wonder.

By evening, her condition had worsened. She had developed a cough, and the chill from the morning had become a cold that seemed to seep into her very heart. Gaster sent for the doctor, who arrived late in the night. The doctor advised that Verdana be put to bed for several days and take several different medicines that were said to help with colds.

Fearful that his children would catch the illness, Gaster forbade Sans and Papyrus from seeing Verdana until she was well. Without his mother, Papyrus was beside himself. He could often be heard crying in the night, begging for her to come and tell him a story and tuck him into bed.

Sans' heart ached for both his mother and his brother.

One night, he couldn't stand the sound of Papyrus's tears anymore, and vowed to take him to see Verdana the very next morning. Before Gaster awoke, Sans picked the lock on his mother's sickroom door, making sure Papyrus could see was he was doing quite clearly. "You never know when this trick might come in handy," he whispered to Papyrus, who watched him with wide eyes.

Together, they advanced quietly into the room. The sound of coughing erupted from behind thick curtains that surrounded the bed, completely shutting out the rest of the world from Verdana. The minute he heard her, Papyrus could not hold back. "Mama!" he cried, pulling away from Sans and desperately shoving the curtains aside to get to her.

"Papyrus?" Verdana's voice was weak but alarmed. "Papy, darling, you shouldn't be here…"

But the little boy was already clambering up onto her bed.

"He was crying for you." Sans pushed the curtains back so that the morning light from the window shone upon his mother's face. "I couldn't stand it anymore."

Verdana's skin was ashen, her hair hung loose in a mass of curls, and her eyes no longer sparkled. But when she smiled at Papyrus and ran a hand through his hair, it was as though none of that mattered. Somehow, her beauty still shone through.

But in seconds, her eyes were clouded with fear. "You shouldn't have brought him here." She drew her hand back. "I shouldn't have touched him—I'm—"

"Boys!" Gaster's voice cut through, sharp as a knife. He had come to check on his wife. "Sans, take Papyrus out of here at once! You can't risk catching what she has."

"She only has a summer cold." Sans didn't move to take his brother away. "I'll stay away, but I don't see why—"

Gaster charged forward and picked Papyrus up off the bed. "Get out! Now! No arguments!"

And so the brothers were forced to leave their mother's side.

Outside of the room, Gaster berated his older son. "You are twenty-one years old now," he hissed at him. "You are a _man._ And yet you are as foolish as a child! We'll be lucky if Papyrus doesn't catch the—catch this! Or _you,_ for pity's sake!"

"It's only a summer cold," Sans repeated himself, though he sounded far less certain about it than before. "She'll recover…"

Gaster turned away and refused to reply.

All the while, Papyrus cried bitterly, not understanding why his papa was so angry and bitter and why he wasn't allowed to see his mama.

Three days later, Papyrus was playing listlessly with his dolls in the parlor as Sans read a book. Or rather, Sans looked at the pages of his book without really reading, because the doctor had just come to assess Verdana's condition, and he was quite anxious. He was sure by now that his mother had more than just a summer cold, based on his father's reaction whenever Papyrus asked to see her.

It wasn't long before the doctor came to the parlor with Gaster. The doctor looked solemn, and all of Gaster's anger seemed to have faded away, to be replaced by utter despair. After speaking to Gaster in a low voice, the doctor bowed his head and left the house.

Gaster looked into the eyes of both his sons. Papyrus's were bright with hope, while Sans seemed to have already guessed what his father was going to say.

Gaster took a deep breath and cast his gaze down to the floor. "Your mother… she is… she's contracted the plague, and… and the doctor believes she will not recover."

Sans bowed his head.

Papyrus, however, shot up from the floor and ran to his father's side, grabbing desperately at the edges of Gaster's coat.

Gaster knew what his little boy was going to say. "Yes, love… we should go see her now."

The three of them went up to Verdana's sickroom, Gaster clutching at the hands of his sons like a lifeline.

Papyrus burst into tears at the sight of his mother. She looked far worse than before—her hands skeletally thin, her eyes dull and red and watery, her forehead shining with sweat. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and when she spoke, her voice could barely be heard.

"Wings…" she called for her husband, holding out her hand. Papyrus lurched forward to take it, but both Sans and Gaster held him back.

Gaster shook his head. "I'm sorry, love. We can't… we can't touch you." He sounded as if he were going to cry.

Verdana seemed to remember her condition and pulled her hand back. A single tear fell from her eye. "My darlings… I'm… I'm so sorry…" She coughed.

"Shh, Dana, it isn't your fault," Gaster tried to console her.

Verdana shook her head. "Wings… I don't know how much longer I have… but I need to tell you… you've been the most wonderful husband I could have ever wanted."

Gaster smiled tearfully. "I know, love… you've told me every day since we were married."

Verdana turned her gaze to Sans. "My son… my darling. I know things haven't been easy with your health… but you've grown into a wonderful man. Please, promise me you will take care of your brother…"

"Of course, Mother." Sans' voice cracked.

"And Papyrus… my precious boy…" More tears fell down Verdana's face as she looked upon her youngest. "I'm being taken from you far too early… it isn't fair in the slightest. But I need you to promise me something, too…"

"Yes, Mama?" Papyrus hung on to her every word.

"Things are going to be difficult from now on… you'll have to learn to live without me. And that will take courage, my love. Every ounce of courage you have." Verdana coughed again and took a shaky breath. "And there is another thing… life rewards the kind, darling. If you sow the seeds of kindness to all you meet, you will reap the happiness that comes with it."

Papyrus's tearful eyes gazed into Verdana's.

"I've seen you, dearest… I've seen the love you have for everyone. You have more kindness in your little finger than some people have in their whole body… and it has power." Verdana stopped speaking for a moment, overcome with emotion. She let out a small sob, then whispered, "Do you promise, my love? Do you promise to have courage and be kind?"

Papyrus nodded and then turned his face into his father's side, sobbing uncontrollably.

Gaster and Sans both sank to the floor at the same moment, bringing down Papyrus with them. And together, the little family shared their grief.

Verdana was gone by evening.

The funeral was a quiet affair, despite a great number of townspeople attending to pay their respects to a wonderful woman. After the Gaster family buried her, they returned to their chateau and mourned for another three months, as was customary. But even after the months had passed, their hearts were still heavy, and they still acutely felt the loss they had suffered.

Without Verdana's unending enthusiasm and constant kindness, the chateau felt empty, the household staff was listless, and Papyrus's playtime felt as though something were missing.

But it wasn't long before Papyrus remembered his promise and vowed to do as she had done.

Although he was only nine years old now, he began to help the servants with the chores without being asked. He would help cook meals, wash laundry, and feed the farm animals, just as Verdana had done. As he grew older, he began doing tasks for the people of the nearby village at no cost to them.

By the age of fifteen, the townspeople thought as highly of Papyrus as they had of Verdana. They would wave to him as he passed by, usually on an errand for his father. The baker occasionally gave him free pastries, and the seamstress almost always gave him discounts on clothing when she could afford it.

Gaster looked upon his son with pride. The man had grown far more sober and reclusive after Verdana's death—making merchant trips only when he had to and holing himself up in his study when he was home. But every day he made sure to tell Papyrus that he loved him.

He tended to be a little harsher on Sans. By this time his older son was twenty-seven and still had no wife to speak of. "Surely there must be some young woman in the village you take a fancy to?" Gaster constantly asked of Sans. "Or even a man?"

But Sans never showed any interest in getting married. "Who would want me as a husband, anyway?" he always said. "I'm almost always ill with something. No one would want to take care of me constantly."

"I don't mind it," Papyrus would speak up sometimes.

And Sans would throw an arm over his brother's shoulder. "Of course you don't. No one in the whole world is kinder than you."

Despite this quarrel between Gaster and Sans, the little family still loved each other and hoped they would be together for a long, long time.

Thus it was quite a shock when their king, Asgore, declared open war against Fatrusia once again and commanded that at least one person from every family in the kingdom be drafted for the army.

Gaster was already wounded from previous battles—his right eye was permanently closed, and he had a limp from an injury to his leg—but he would not hear of either of his sons joining the army. Sans' health was not good enough and Papyrus was too young. "Both of you have your whole lives ahead of you. I won't let you waste them fighting a war you did not ask for," Gaster said, and his word was final.

Tearful goodbyes were said, with Gaster promising that he would return as soon as he could.

While he was gone, Sans took over the merchant business as he had always dreamed of doing, and Papyrus began to run the household, keeping the house clean and tidy for when his brother returned from his merchant trips. All the while, both brothers thought of the bloody battles their father could be facing and prayed for his safety.

The new wave of war lasted barely a year, as King Asgore realized he was gaining nothing, only sending troops out like pigs for slaughter. Asgore was secretly grateful when King Viliame of Fatrusia called for a cease-fire and the kingdoms once again settled into an uneasy peace.

Sans and Papyrus were overjoyed to learn that the remaining troops were being sent home, and they waited impatiently for their father to arrive.

He never did.

Instead, a royal messenger from the palace came to the brothers' door and informed them that W.D. Gaster had been killed in battle, and his body would be returned to them for burial in a few days.

Upon hearing the terrible news, Papyrus fled from the doorstep and ran into the woods surrounding the chateau, as if running away from it all would make it untrue. He collapsed in despair under a great pine tree, howling in emotional agony, wishing that he had been the one to die.

Sans found him nearly an hour later. As Papyrus sobbed, Sans knelt down next to him. "Papyrus—" His voice cracked. "Papyrus, I know—I'm sorry. I never wanted this to happen. But—it's as Mother said. You remember what she said, don't you?"

"H-Have courage…" Papyrus gulped.

"That's right. You have to have more courage than ever now, Papyrus. It's the only way we'll make it through this," Sans whispered. "We mustn't ever forget that."

Papyrus nodded a little, then again, much more resolutely. He dried his tears and stood, and the brothers walked back to the house, their mother's mantra echoing in their minds.

_Have courage and be kind._

η

Across the land of Ostaria, in the great palace, Prince Mettaton was having a far easier time of things.

He never knew his parents, thus he could not mourn for them. Indeed, the entire time he grew up in the palace, he had never known loss.

All he knew was that he could have whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it.

Ever since he was a toddler, his father, King Asgore, and all the servants of the palace waited on him hand and foot. If he wanted sweets for dinner, he had sweets for dinner. If he wanted five teddy bears of the same variety, he got five teddy bears of the same variety. If he wanted to wear his dressing gown all day, that was what he would do. Asgore just didn't know how to say no to him.

Conversely, if Mettaton _didn't_ want to do something, he was rarely made to do it. He often refused to take naps and baths as a child and had no set bedtime, staying up late in the night and demanding that his nanny read story after story to him.

Indeed, Mettaton was the very definition of a spoiled, selfish brat.

The only thing Asgore really made him do was schoolwork—mostly reading and writing, but Mettaton was always rewarded with chocolate and presents when he did what his tutor wanted, so the boy didn't complain as often as he might otherwise.

Overall, there was only one thing Mettaton was never allowed to do, and that was leave the palace.

Asgore told him it was because it was for his own safety, but truthfully Asgore was frightened of Mettaton somehow learning about his Fatrusian heritage and believed that keeping him in the palace would also keep him from the truth.

Mettaton whined about not being let out of the palace grounds, but no amount of crying would change his father's mind.

By the time Mettaton was ten years old, much of the palace staff was thoroughly sick of him. Even Asgore himself realized he had made a mistake in spoiling his son. Mettaton was nothing like his boy Asriel; while Asriel had had many friends and had been kind and gentle, Mettaton often bullied the children of the servants and broke dishes and tore up the gardens if something wasn't going his way.

Asgore had only let his son have whatever he wanted to try and get his son to be loyal to him, but it had backfired in the worst possible way. He had to accept it: Mettaton was in no way fit to be a king.

Asgore had to fix things somehow.

So he held a meeting with all the palace staff and ordered them all to spoil Mettaton no longer. He knew the boy would put up a great fuss, and likely wouldn't understand why his father had changed his manner toward him so suddenly, but it didn't matter.

He was right, of course: Mettaton was deeply unhappy when the staff no longer waited on him hand and foot, when his daily schedule became much more strict, and when he didn't receive rewards for doing as he was told anymore. But Asgore repeatedly told him about the children of the world who were less fortunate than him and who couldn't have whatever they wanted, and the words slowly seeped into Mettaton's mind.

When Mettaton was a teenager, he was still quite arrogant and vain. He still believed he deserved everything he had, and his days mostly consisted of lazing around asking servants to get things for him as well as having parties with the gentry of the land.

In many ways, he was the complete opposite of Papyrus Gaster: selfish, unkind, lazy, and full of himself. And many people believed he would never change.

But fate had things in store for him, things that would change everything, including the frivolous ways of Mettaton Dreemurr.


End file.
